


Broken Like Me

by kitkatt0430



Series: A Touch of Forgetfulness [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Amnesia Recovery, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hartley is worried about how much Cisco remembers, Hartley's having a bad morning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 09:29:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21116522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatt0430/pseuds/kitkatt0430
Summary: Hartley's anxiety is running high this morning already thanks to a nightmare about Cisco leaving him.  But outside the nightmares, Cisco is still there, despite losing six years worth of memories, and that goes a long way towards soothing Hartley's fears.





	Broken Like Me

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little thing written because my own anxiety hasn't been great this last week (the joys of home ownership /s) and posted because if I have to be awake during a tornado warning then I'm gonna do something that makes me happy.

Some days Hartley's anxiety is still bad. It’s a fact of life. Some days are rainy, some days the allergen count is high, and some days Hartley wakes up and his anxiety is just… not good.

Today is one of those days.

Hartley wakes up, pulse pounding in his ears and tears pricking his eyes and he makes a wounded little noise because he still can’t quite differentiate between his nightmares and reality just yet. He’s still not awake enough. It doesn’t help that he’s alone in the bed, his panicked mind flitting between ‘where’s Cisco’ and ‘of course he’s not here, why would he stay when he doesn’t remember, doesn’t have to be shackled to a screw up anymore’ and Hartley’s thoughts are not a pleasant place to be at the moment.

His breathing calms despite himself, however, as the sounds of the day filter in. Birdsong outside the apartment and Cisco singing inside the apartment.

“-broken like me. Maybe that makes me a fool,” Cisco was singing along with the radio. “I like that you’re lonely, lonely like me. I could be lonely with you.” There was a soft swish-swish of sock padded feet on the floor as he danced about the kitchen and a bubbling noise from two sources as Cisco made both coffee and tea for the morning. Hartley could almost imagine how the scene must look.

And as much as Hartley wants to get up and join their pet rats in watching Cisco being adorable in person, Hartley also wants to bury himself in the covers, go back to sleep, and start the day over again.

The alarm on Hartley’s phone sounds and he shuts it off, eyeing the on screen memo associated with this particular alarm. ‘Take your meds’ advises his phone.

So he sits up, slides his legs over the side of the bed, and reluctantly stands up to go to the bathroom and take his anxiety and ADHD medication.

Time to start the day.

* * *

Cisco looks concerned the moment Hartley pads out into the living room. He puts down the coffee pot he was about to pour into a mug and hurries over to Hartley, carefully reaching out to cup Hartley’s face and run his thumb along Hartley’s cheek.

“Were you crying?” Cisco’s all concerned and…

And Hartley, desperately, does not want to put Cisco through one of Hartley’s bad anxiety days. Not when two weeks ago a meta caused Cisco amnesia that stole six years worth of memories, including the entirety of their marriage. Bits and pieces of their lives together have started filtering back, but there was still so much gone… and Hartley didn’t want to add pressure to that.

So he considers, for a second or so, saying its just allergies. But he promised Cisco not to lie about when his anxiety disorder is particularly bad. Even if Cisco can’t remember Hartley making that promise, Hartley remembers and he doesn’t want to deal with the guilt and shame of breaking that promise.

“I had a really bad dream and my anxiety is especially high this morning. Though which one caused the other, I’m not really sure about yet.” Hartley shrugged miserably. “It’s been a while since I’ve felt this bad for no reason, but I just took my meds so that should help.”

“What can I do to help?” Cisco asks, his gaze intent as he takes Hartley’s hands in his own and clasps them against his chest so that Hartley can feel his heartbeat as well as hear it.

“Be patient with me today,” Hartley admits. “I tend to handle anxiety with anger and while I’m better at dealing with it now, I still get tetchy and snap really easily so...”

“Patience,” Cisco agreed. “You’ve had that in spades for me lately, I think I can manage to have some myself.” He walked backwards, gently tugging Hartley along until he was seated at the counter. “What kind of tea would you like this morning?”

Hartley’s mind blanked. He frowned and then shrugged. “Something soothing. One of the chamomile blends, I guess.” Any help he could get with feeling less frazzled at the moment would be welcome.

Cisco pulls out a teabag from the pantry after a moment, then finally pours his own coffee in one cup and adds tea and boiled water to the other. “How do waffles sound for breakfast?”

“Good.” As long as Hartley doesn’t have to help make them. He’s got enough mental energy for cereal and milk if he has to make something himself. And whether Cisco can see that or just intended to make breakfast himself anyway, Hartley isn’t sure. But he gets to sit there at the counter and drink his tea quietly while watching Cisco make their breakfast.

And the nightmare that woke him gnaws quietly at the back of Hartley's brain the whole time.

* * *

Cisco drives them to work while Hartley stares out the car windows.

They’ve been going over Cisco’s earlier work, starting with the cure for the mirakuru drug. It was more Caitlin’s work than Cisco’s, but it was Cisco’s first step in branching out into bio-chem and learning from Caitlin the process that she and Cisco took to formulate the drug has been pretty fascinating for Hartley too.

But Caitlin finished going over all of that the day before – finished with them synthesizing both the mirakuru and its antidote and testing the two to show how one canceled out the other. The antidote in and of itself was a fairly strong poison on its own, so it wasn't something they kept on hand; both the mirakuru and the antidote were destroyed once they were done. Though apparently Caitlin had ideas about how to fix the psychological instabilities produced by the mirakuru, not that she ever wanted to risk actually creating a truly working version of the drug.

Just the idea of what ARGUS or an organization similar to it might do with a working version of mirakuru…

With the mirakuru wrapped up, they were turning to the first iteration of the Flash suit, which Hartley was looking forward to discussing with Cisco. The original idea behind the suit had been Hartley's and his unfinished designs had been picked up by a bored Cisco looking for something to work on while STAR Labs babysat the sleeping Barry Allen. The suit Cisco had come up with probably wouldn’t have worked quite as well as he’d thought it would for firefighters, but as a friction proof suit for a newly woken speedster it had been absolutely perfect.

But after the suit came the Cold Gun and Hartley knew Cisco still had mixed feelings about that one. Going over those plans and discussing why Cisco created it in the first place… the circumstances under which Cisco built the second one… those weren’t happy memories to bring up. As much as Hartley wished he could protect Cisco from those, he knew they were important memories; Cisco deserved to have all of them back.

“Earth to Hartley,” Cisco teased as they pulled into a parking spot. “We’ve arrived.”

“Sorry, just kind of… lost in my thoughts,” Hartley smiled wanly. He brightened a little bit when, shyly, Cisco leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“Stay with me today, okay?”

Those words warmed and stung all at once. It was something Cisco would say on bad days like today, before the amnesia. _“I don’t necessarily mean that literally, by the way. Like, you don’t have to physically stay with me a hundred percent of the day or anything, but… Hartley? Stay with me mentally. If you feel like you’re getting lost in your head and the anxiety is bad, I’m here. All you have to do is reach out, even a little bit, and I’ll remind you I’m right there with you. You never have to go through this alone.”_

But now? Cisco remembered those words. But did he remember the context? Hartley was afraid to ask.

Yet… he reached out his hand when they got out of the car and headed inside the building. And Cisco immediately latched on, weaving their fingers together without even a moment’s hesitation.

And, finally, the nightmare began to quiet.


End file.
